when in the pit,
the gaping crevasse of empty dread,

i try, i really do,
to derail the freight train, to seek hope in the deep, to silence the murmurs, grappling with the now, lost in the maelstrom of jagged thought,

when in the pit,
the yawning hole swallowing me whole,

i try, i really do,
to fill the void, the hollowness of unfeeling, reaching for slivers of redemption slicing through my fingertips,

when in the pit,
the vacuum of pain,

i try, i really do … … …

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